


The Breath of A White Dragon

by humandisastersquad



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Camlann, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humandisastersquad/pseuds/humandisastersquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The white dragon bodes well for Albion, for you and Arthur, and for the land that you will build together." Camlann.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Breath of A White Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Note that I wrote this before part one of the finale. (Which made it all the more depressing when part of it came true in part 2)

Merlin blocked Morgana's fireballs for the god knows how many times that day. The two powerful sorcerers had been locked in combat for over an hour now, and the time was taking its toll. Morgana knew she wasn't going to defeat the almighty Emrys with brute force alone. She had been trying to trick him into letting his guard down, spinning tales to invoke a rection in him. She had been largely unsuccessful; the warlock had been solemn the entire battle, a weary look plastered on his face. The High Priestess was at her wits- and strength's- end. She had to find a weak spot in his armour.

Morgana inwardly cursed herself. Of course she knew his sore point. She smirked.

Arthur.

More specifically, his doom. She had already gotten out of him why he had put up with the king all these years. The loyalty both astounded and sickened her. While the man had explained, his attacks had become stronger with the thought of his friend, so she had quickly dropped the subject. Now...

"Tell me," she said, her voice then became ver menacing as she uttered the next few words, "why do you continue to fight... when you know he's going to die?"

"I can save him. I always save him. Especially from _you._ " With particular emphasis on the word, he blasted a bolt of energy at her. It caught her on the side, bringing her down to her knees. Panicked eyes looked to the warlock. Her doom. She only had words to bring him down now. She had to chose her next ones carefully. She replayed their last conversation in her head and smiled. As defiant as he had said those words, they had been a reassurance. He wasn't as in control as he would have liked.

"Oh I've made sure you can't this time Emrys," she hissed. Merlin went in for another blow but stopped, eyes widening as he understood the meaning behind her threat.

Morgana had said Emrys. Not Merlin. Her plans in the past had been designed to be foolproof against Merlin the simple manservant. Not Emrys, the most powerful warlock in existence.

This doubt was all Morgana needed. Shouting a spell, she managed to fling him across the room, landing against a wall where he started convulsing violently. She saw the despair in his eyes as he realised the full extent of her threat. However, he was still a threat. She had to break him down further. She smiled again. This was going to be fun.

"You see," said Morgana, painfully pushing herself up from the floor, clutching her side, "I gave a very special present to dear Mordred. A sword." She was now limping towards the man, her head cocked in pride. "A very special sword. One forged in a dragon's breath."

"Aithusa," breathed Merlin. He remembered how Kilgharrah had helped him make Excalibur. The sword that had won many battles for Arthur with its power. He almost laughed at the poetic justice that the only two swords of power were in mortal combat with the other's wielders. Swords that were able to defeat the dead, able to-

"No..." gasped Merlin, remembering a very special property of Excalibur.

"Yes. A wound from a sword of power can only be healed by the dragon that helped forge it. Nothing else. Not even Emrys." Morgana bathed in the terrified look of the man, who now looked like a lost boy; his world crumbling down around him. She laughed. In doing so she closed her eyes, missing the transformation from despair into desperate rage in the warlock.

Morgana didn't last long in the wrath of his power.

His world blurring, Merlin ran.

But he was too late.

* * *

Merlin cradled the near dead Arthur in his lap. He had tried every single healing spell he knew despite Morgana's taunts, none of them working. There was nothing he could do.

"No... we..." he choked out, "supposed to... do... so many great things." A fresh wave of tears spilled down his cheeks. "Albion... magic..." He remembered his inevitable discussion with his friend about his magic. It had been heated, despairing at times, but eventually Arthur had accepted him. The warlock cracked a small smile at the fact that his friend had accepted his magic. That thought quickly turned sour and he sobbed again as he looked down at Arthur's unmoving form.

"No!" he cried, quickly trying to find a pulse. It was weak, but it was there. He breathed with some relief. Why was he relieved that the king was still alive? There was no hope. Not even the mighty Emrys could heal him. And yet, Merlin deluded himself that there was still hope. As long as Arthur was still alive, albeit barely, Merlin could convince himself that everything was going to be alright.

Merlin couldn't stand the silence. After he had seen Arthur stabbed, the warlock had released a powerful wave of magic. Although it had mainly been directed at the enemy, Camelot's army had been hit with a less fatal wave. Even the skies were quiet, not even crows dared come and pick at the remains and the dragons had fallen down long ago.

"Come on you prat," he said, smiling through the tears, "no more lazing about. And you say I'm the lazy one. Then again, all those times you thought I was in the tavern, I was really working to save your royal behind... Like I should... be... now." He couldn't pretend any longer. Arthur was as good as gone. Merlin closed his eyes, trying to replace the haunting image before him with memories of the good times. He cried softly, his quiet sobs resounding over the deathly silent battlefield.

* * *

So lost in his grief that the sobbing man didn't register the proximity of the creature before it nuzzled him. Raising his head, he was met with a surprising sight.

Aithusa.

The dragon chirruped at him, looking at the limp body of his friend. He looked down at Arthur and then back to the dragon.

"Heal him," he begged, "please."

Even without the sway of a Dragonlord, the dragon wanted to help. Like she had helped a dying Morgana. After healing the witch, she had stayed to guide her and give her companionship. However, her quest to help the witch had led to her capture and torturous imprisonment by Sarrum. The dragon had been twisted and scarred both physically and psychologically, seeking comfort with Morgana. Morgana had become the only thing she knew, even turning her against the last Dragonlord. Now, having regretfully defeated the last of her kin and without the witch's influence, Aithisa saw the error of her ways. Emrys was the only thing she had left. She wanted to help.

After trying to convey her sorrow to him, the young dragon turned to the limp body he was holding. She did the only thing she knew she was good at.

Heal.

 

A mist invisible to everyone but Merlin and Aithusa came from the dragon's mouth to shroud the king's body. Merlin watched in hope and fear as he lost sight of his friend inside the brightly glowing gold cloud. He waited in baited breathe as it dissipated after a few minutes, Aithusa slumping with the effort. Arthur lay still.

* * *

Merlin never thought he would be so happy to hear Arthur groan, as it usually preceded a half-awake and very grumpy Arthur, who was just looking for an opportunity to yell at a certain manservant for waking him up, but now the sound echoed in his mind, bringing him an ecstatic joy.

"Arthur?" cried Merlin. Now tears of happiness replaced those of despair as he cradled his very much alive friend. He looked up at the battlefield, noting the movement of the recovering knights before he locked eyes with Aithusa.

"Thank you," he conveyed with his entire being towards the dragon, who he had thought lost to Morgana. Now, he recalled the words of the Great Dragon on the night of the hatching, their meaning becoming clear.

_"The white dragon bodes well for Albion, for you and Arthur, and for the land that you will build together."_

**Author's Note:**

> Hey remember when Aithusa was a symbol of hope in this series?
> 
> Before ending up on Morgana's side and being tortured and crippled, possibly foreshadowing for the failure of Albion's destiny?
> 
> Yeah.
> 
> Plus now we have no idea what happened to her after Merlin told her to sod off. Then again, we don't know many things after the events of the finale. #Pissed off


End file.
